The Falconer's Game
by smarmyhunnies
Summary: Blaise Zabini enters into a contract with Draco Malfoy -- he must seduce Hermione Granger, make her fall in love with him, and promptly break her heart. Can this cold-hearted Slytherin carry out his task? Or will his feelings get in the way?
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

**Obviously doesn't follow the book, but still fun! I love a good Blaise/Hermione pairing, yay.**

Prologue

The first time I noticed her was when she slapped Draco. I have to admit – it was entertaining to see his shocked expression, to watch him sputter indignantly. But the thing that struck me the most at the time was the way her eyes sparked, the way her chin jutted out just so. I don't often see that expression in girls – in my experience, they tend to pretend to be shy, demure, ladylike.

But there was something in her that spoke of life, something that caught my breath.

Yes, of course, I knew it was wrong. I've been raised in the same way as the rest of them – we believe in the purity of blood, in the strength of our bloodlines. My family has been traced back to purebloods for generations, and I am proud of that.

That night, as we lay in the boy's dormitories, Draco turned over to me and muttered, "I'm going to kill that little Mudblood."

I smirked back. "How are you planning to do that? She's always surrounded by her cronies."

Draco's expression darkened and he lay back. He didn't speak of it again.

His hatred for her was brewing though, and it grew more and more pronounced as I continued to notice her around Hogwarts. At breakfast, she'd butter her toast carefully, starting in the middle and spreading out to all the edges. In Potions, she'd tie her hair back, leaving one wayward curl to fall across her cheek. Between classes, she'd walk purposely, almost as though her next stop was a life or death situation.

To tell you the truth, she drove me mad.

And it wasn't until two years later, when we were fifth years, that Draco came up with his idea for revenge.

It was my fault – I was looking at her during class, and she caught me. Her eyes locked on mine and she blushed and looked away.

"Granger's checking you out," Draco whispered to me, and then his eyes sparkled maliciously.

He had an idea to bring her down.

And, as luck would have it, his idea involved me.

**Please review! I don't know if I want to continue this yet, so I need some feedback stat! Thanks for reading.**


	2. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone! I hope you enjoy this little chapter... we're getting into the meat of the story now, oh my! **

Chapter 1

"You've got to be kidding me," Blaise Zabini shook his head in disbelief, dark hair falling into his eyes and highlighting the scowl marring his features. He was seated on one of the seats in the Slytherin common room, the open book on his lap all but forgotten.

"But you owe me."

Blaise scowled again. How could he forget? Draco Malfoy never forgot a favor, even if you had grown up together as near-brothers. Of course Draco would call in a favor now for that one time – Blaise shook his head – that one stupid summer in France.

The blond was lounging back in his own chair, lips pressed together petulantly. On Salazar's grave – that boy pouted quite a bit. Blaise smirked briefly as he remembered the times when Draco would throw tantrums as a child, and how Narcissa would always run to his rescue murmuring, "Oh, there, there my little Drakie."

He wondered if it would be a good time to bring up old memories.

Best not, Draco had developed a temper as of late.

"I hardly owe you for anything," Blaise hedged, running a hand through his hair.

"Might I remind you--"

Oh Merlin, here we go again. Blaise winced and Draco caught the change in expression and smiled wolfishly.

"Can we please not go over that story again?" Blaise interrupted testily.

"You mean, the one about the girl you fell _madly_ in love with the summer before fourth year…"

"Yes, that one."

The boys fell into silence and Blaise resumed reading his book. Blast it all, there was a Potions essay due on Friday and he hadn't even started yet.

"Does that mean you'll do it, then?" Draco's voice was hopeful, persistent.

Blaise sighed. This was always the difficult thing – saying no to Draco. After all, they'd been friends for years, and this was just one little favor, one little task in order to right a wrong that Draco had supposedly received. So what if Blaise thought that Draco should have gotten over his hatred of Hermione Granger years ago? That was inconsequential. This was not about what he thought – this was about brotherhood. This was about blood.

And so, as always, Blaise gave in.

He nodded once without looking up from his book.

"Excellent!" Draco exclaimed.

And so the games began.

--

"Oh bloody hell," Blaise groaned. It was six in the morning and someone (someone clearly asking for an early death) was shaking his shoulder. He turned over and blindly punched out at the other person.

"Oww!"

As his vision focused, Blaise realized that Draco was jumping up and down, cursing as he held a hand up to his arm.

"I'm sorry," Blaise muttered, sitting up in his bed. "But what the hell are you doing waking me up this early?"

Draco scowled at him. "Bloody hell, that hurt. I was just trying to get you ready for your first day of seduction, that's all."

A pause.

"My _what_?"

"You know," Draco lowered his voice and leaned in to hiss his next words. "The Granger thing."

Oh. That thing. Blaise had almost forgotten that he'd be expected to actually _talk_ to that horrid Mudblood today. Though of course, he didn't find her particularly horrid. He found her rather… well, that was a bad train of thought to follow.

"So why do I have to get up so early for this again?"

Draco hustled back over to his bed and came back bearing Blaise's freshly pressed robes, a new deep green tie and newly polished shoes. Blaise raised his eyebrows.

"Did you do that yourself?"

Draco scoffed. "Of course not. I just had one of the elves do it. They're perfectly able, you know." He brightened as he ran back to his bed again. "Oh, there's something else!"

Blaise smirked as he watched his best friend scamper across the dormitory. He had known Draco for long enough so that he wasn't fooled by the cold, snobby façade that he put up. Though Draco was a bit of a brat (oh, alright, a huge brat), he wasn't so reserved as others thought he was. He was, in fact, rather silly when given the chance. Not that he'd ever want anyone to know that.

Draco came back, dumping several vials of hair product and a silver bottle of cologne onto Blaise's lap. He sat back expectantly, like an eager puppy looking to be praised. "Well?" he said. "Isn't this great?"

"What the bloody hell _is_ this stuff?!"

Draco frowned. "The stuff to make you more attractive, of course."

"I'm attractive enough already!"

Now Draco was officially pouting. Blaise groaned. "Well it wouldn't hurt to put in a little more effort, you know. Witches love this stuff, supposedly."

"Oh, and where'd you hear that from?"

"I dunno, they just do."

"Oh, and I suppose you're the expert on that. Because you've got _so_ many girlfriends right now."

Draco smacked Blaise on the shoulder, then jutted his chin out imperiously. "I'll have you know that all the girls here want me."

Blaise bit back a chortle. He couldn't even imagine all the girls pining after pale, skinny little Draco. The only one who seemed entirely devoted to him was Pansy Parkinson, and that girl was the most annoying little creature he'd ever met. Stupid, too. He suspected that the only reason Draco let her hang around him was because it bolstered his ego.

"Fine, fine," Blaise muttered. "Help me put this stuff on, then. I don't know how it works."

The boys trudged to the washroom, preparing for their first day of battle.

--

The first move, after they had eaten breakfast, was to sit next to Granger during their first class. Draco had nicknamed her "The Falcon."

"You see, they're hard to tame," he said. "But once you do, you've got them eating out of your hand. Also, only the classiest and most noble people train falcons."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "You and your bloody metaphors," he muttered.

The first course that they had with the Gryffindors was Potions. This was rather difficult, because Granger always appeared to be flanked by her two little minions. The two boys sat at breakfast mulling over their options.

"Oh, I know!" Draco finally hissed. "I'll start up a fight with Potty and the Weasel right before class starts. The Falcon will be too much of a goody-goody to even risk being late, so she'll go in and sit down. That's when _you_ sweep in and sweep her off her feet."

The plan worked perfectly.

As Blaise slid into the dungeons two minutes before class was to begin, he saw Granger sitting alone, biting her lip nervously. Her head was turned towards the door.

He could hear Draco and the two Gryffindors bickering outside.

"You're a fat lot of sissies, all of you!" Draco bellowed. "And you wear terrible, secondhand clothing."

He rolled his eyes. Draco needed to work on his insults sometime.

Blaise casually strolled over to the table where Granger was sitting. She looked up at him distrustfully and scowled. "What do you want?"

He ignored her rudeness and inclined his head towards the seat next to her. "Is that seat taken?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Do you want to be partnered up with a…" she leaned forward and lowered her voice to a sarcastic hiss. "Mudblood?"

So she was a little feisty. Never mind that; he'd tame her soon enough. So what if she hated him now? Wasn't there some insipid saying that said something about there being a thin line between hatred and love? He'd push her across that line, damn it, and he'd do it with flair.

Blaise shrugged his shoulders elegantly. "I don't much care for that term," he said. "I find it rather derogatory. But yes, I would _love _to be your partner."

And before she could change her mind, he pulled out the seat and sat down next to her.

Surely once she took in his awe-inspiring presence she'd fall in love with him immediately. Surely this wouldn't take too much work.

Granger turned towards him. "What in the world are you playing at, Zabini?" she asked in a low whisper. Then she sniffed, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "And what in Merlin's name are you _wearing?_ Are you trying to kill me with your cologne? Is that your master evil Slytherin plan?"

And with that, she turned away, gulping in a deep breath and shrugging her shoulders helplessly when Pottter and Weasley cast confused glances in her direction.

She hardly spoke to him throughout the lesson, though he tried to suavely gain her attention by rubbing his elbow against hers and making small talk.

"Your hair is quite lovely, you know."

She scowled. "Oh, stir the damn pot already, Zabini."

As they measured their potions into the flasks towards the end of class, Blaise ventured one last attempt.

"Would you like to maybe partner up again next time? I think we worked together rather well."

Her response was quick, without hesitation, and cutting.

"I'd rather die first, Zabini."

And with that, she strode to the front of the room, turned in her flask of potions and all but ran through the door out of the dungeons.

Blaise sighed. This could prove to be more difficult than he expected.

**Please review! I don't know how often I'll be able to update this, but I would like to continue. If you review and be nice, I might be able to get a new chapter up within a week (yay!) **


	3. Chapter 2

**My, oh my! Another update. Yikes, I have no idea how many people out here like Blaise/Hermione (sigh) but I'm hoping that there are enough people out there to make writing this story worth it. Enjoy! **

**Chapter 2**

"She bloody hates me. I can't do this."

Draco and Blaise sat in the common room, going over the unfortunate events of the day – well, of the past _four_ days. They were both rather frustrated – after all, they had put so much effort into this plan. There had been so much promise! Blaise was a darkly attractive, well-bred boy. Surely the girl would swoon for him with ease. But instead, his advances had only spurned her anger and she became increasingly exasperated as the days wore on.

Why, just today, Blaise had opened the door for her and she had literally kicked him in the shins before storming into the classroom.

"What is wrong with you?" she had hissed, her eyes sparkling dangerously. Blaise had secretly found this look rather attractive on her, not that he would tell anyone – especially not Draco. After all, he was no masochist. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"

"What's wrong with you?" he had finally burst out. "I'm trying bloody hard to be nice to you and – owww!!"

And with that, Granger had swept past him and into the classroom, scrambling to find a seat next to her friends before he could rush in to sit next to her.

Draco stood up and paced around the common room in distress. The firelight glinted off of his blond tresses as he ran a hand through his hair distractedly. "We can't give up," he started off, and Blaise sighed.

Here he went again. A spirited speech of some sort was sure to follow.

And right on cue, Draco went into inspirational speech mode, punctuating his sentences with shakes of his fist. "We can NOT give in. You will NOT let one girl take you down, will you? You will NOT let a few bruises on your shin stop you from taking what is rightfully ours!"

"And what exactly _is_ rightfully ours, Draco?" Blaise drawled boredly. Draco's inspirational speeches were often lacking in common sense and, well, inspiration.

"Well, you know. Pride. Honor. That sort of stuff," Draco sputtered. "And anyway, you're almost there. I can feel it! Her resolve will break soon."

Blaise had no idea what Draco was basing this insane optimism off of. As far as he could tell, he was no closer to breaking Granger's resolve than he was to becoming Minister of Magic. And he would _gladly_ point that out, but Draco just seemed so… well, hopeful. Blaise sighed and rubbed his shin dolefully.

"We'll renew efforts tomorrow, I suppose," he said without much enthusiasm. If he got matching bruises on the other shin, he'd have to kill somebody.

He glanced sideways over at Draco, who was scribbling away at their next "moves" frantically.

Yes, he'd have to kill somebody. And it'd probably be Draco.

--

On the sixth day, Blaise made what he considered to be great progress. He was passing by the library after supper when he had a brilliant idea – didn't Granger always hang about the library, studying or doing whatever it was that little bookworms did?

If he went into the library and found Granger right now, she'd be alone. And if she was alone, she'd be vulnerable. And he could seduce her without the fear of interruption!

He quickly ducked into the boy's washroom, checked his hair and came back out to stroll into the library.

And bingo!

As expected, Granger was indeed seated at a table towards the back of the library, her frizzy hair obscuring her face as she bent over a pile of books. She seemed deep in concentration, and, more importantly, she was alone.

Blaise bit back a grin and strode over to her. As he neared, she looked up and her expression changed from studious to annoyed.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed.

He ignored her. "Mind if I sit down?"

"_Yes_, I mind."

He ignored her again, pulling out a chair and sitting across from her.

Granger huffed, blowing up a piece of her hair. It was oddly endearing.

"So what are you working on there?"

She shot him a dirty look. "Why are you doing this?"

Blaise adopted a look of perfect innocence. Merlin knew that he wouldn't ever let her know exactly why he was doing this – that wasn't the Slytherin way, after all. "Why, what do you mean? What exactly am I doing?"

She slammed her book closed and gestured wildly as she spoke, her voice growing louder and louder. "All of this! The stalking! The sitting next to me in class! The opening doors for me! I can't even go to the library without you following me! If I didn't know better, I'd think that you were obsessed with me."

Blaise smirked. "Think rather highly of yourself, do you, Mudblood?"

And then… he realized what he had just said. Blast it. He was supposed to _seduce_ the girl, not insult her. Ugh. This was so stupid. He was so stupid. He opened his mouth, ready to apologize hastily, when suddenly, Granger smiled.

"Ah, there's the Blaise we all know and hate," she said, shaking her head. "I was starting to think that you'd turned," she wrinkled her nose, "_human _or something. Thank Merlin you're still as rotten and unpleasant as ever."

"I do try," he responded dazedly, trying to figure out her change in countenance. Hadn't he just insulted her? Hadn't he just called her a terrible name? Why in Merlin's name would she suddenly smile at him like that?

"You're an odd one, Zabini," Granger said as she gathered up her books. She was still smiling. "But you've got to stop this stalking thing. It's creeping me out, to tell you the truth. So why don't you go back to whatever it is that you Slytherins do in your spare time – oh, killing puppies or something – and I'll go back to my life."

She was standing up, preparing to leave, and Blaise had no idea what to do. I mean, really, she had just smiled at him for the first time in a week, and that was a good thing. However, they had both just insulted each other… so… did that even out to nothing?

"What if I don't want to go back to my life?" he blurted out. He realized immediately afterwards that he sounded like some ridiculously cheesy romantic hero.

From the snort that Granger gave, she thought so too.

"Don't be so melodramatic," she said, slinging her bag across her shoulder. "It doesn't become you."

And with that, she disappeared from the library. But just as she reached the door, Granger turned around once more, smiled, and waved.

Yes, Blaise Zabini had made some progress.

**Please review. I'm unsure about whether or not I want to continue this. **


	4. Chapter 3

**Thanks a million to all the dear creatures who reviewed the last few chapters :). It makes me feel better to know that at least a few of you are continuing to look at this. Anyways, as a treat, here is an early (and longer!) update. Enjoy!  
**

Chapter 3

"I've figured it out," Blaise stated, his mouth half filled with turkey. "She likes me when I'm mean to her."

Draco looked at him as though he'd grown another head. "I don't think that you really know how to deal with girls," he said slowly. "Because I can tell you now that you're not getting anywhere with that attitude."

Blaise scowled at him. "As if you know so much about girls."

The statement was a challenge, of course, as everything else between them often was. Why, just last summer they had spent their time in France mooning over girls and trying to figure out who could charm one into admitting love first. Draco had won, extracting a gushing declaration of love and eternal fidelity from a wispy, blonde little wench. The girl had been built like a ballet dancer, wore loose gauzy clothing and had large watery eyes that made her seem as though she was always on the verge of emotional collapse. Indeed, she _had_ collapsed after Draco told her solemnly that he was going back to England and couldn't see her anymore.

Poor little thing. She had been rather lovely, in a delicate, fragile way. Blaise wondered if Draco still wrote to her. Virginie. Yes, that had been her name.

Blaise of course, had been pursuing Clemence. He sighed, thinking of her dark laughing eyes, the black ringlets of hair… and of course, the end. The thing that you remember the most, the thing that smarts the most, is always, always the end.

Draco scoffed at him, pulling Blaise out of his depressive reverie. "I'll have you know that I am _great_ with girls. Just watch."

He straightened his tie and cocked his head towards the end of the table, where the girls sat. "Oy, girls!"

Several heads swirled around at once.

Pansy batted her eyelashes eagerly. "Hu-llooo there Draco, dear!" she called back in a singsong voice.

Daphne Greengrass, who sat next to her, tossed her wavy brown hair over her shoulder and snorted. "What do you want, Malfoy?" she asked, her green eyes flashing. Daphne had always been a tough one, and Blaise had to bite back a grin at how unfazed she was by Draco's not-so-suave advances.

Her little sister, Astoria, on the other hand, sat tugging at the edges of her robe. Blaise had always considered Daphne the prettier one in the family, mostly because he preferred brunettes, but he knew Draco thought otherwise. Though Astoria was only a third-year, her halo of white blonde ringlets and startling green eyes had already brought about a few casual remarks from Draco already.

"There's Astoria," he'd say at Slytherin family functions. "She's rather more fetching than that Daphne brute, isn't she?"

If Blaise thought that Draco had a heart, he'd say that Draco fancied the girl.

Right on cue, Draco wiggled his fingers and directed his attentions towards the youngest Greengrass. "Hey there!" he said, suddenly too chipper for his own good. Blaise resisted the urge to slap himself in the forehead. This was going to be embarrassing. Not so much for him, but for Draco – very embarrassing. "How are you doing, Astoria?"

The girl blushed. "Um, okay," she responded softly.

Pansy huffed, got up and walked away. Daphne caught Blaise's gaze, grinned, rolled her eyes, and went back to shoveling food into her mouth.

"Great," Draco nodded vigorously. "You're adjusting to Hogwarts okay, yeah?"

She gave him a strange look, her thin eyebrows knitting together in confusion. "I've been here for over two years," she reminded him gently.

Daphne almost choked on her butterbeer.

"Right," Draco said, reddening a little. This was getting interesting, thought Blaise. Embarrassingly painful. But interesting, nonetheless. "Well, you know, often it takes quite a long time to completely adjust. And that's okay – nothing to be embarrassed about. So umm," he bumbled on, running a hand through his hair. "If you ever need help with anything, I'll be happy to show you around. As an older student with more experience, that's my duty and all. So feel free to…"

Alright, it was time to swoop in and save the day. Clapping Draco on the shoulder, Blaise pulled him up from the table and waved towards the Greengrass girls. Daphne was looking on with a smirk, and Astoria had a confused expression marring her porcelain features. "Sorry, ladies," Blaise said. "But I desperately need Draco here for some important business. We'll see you later."

As they strode out of the hall, Blaise leaned towards Draco's ear and chuckled. "Great with girls, eh?"

Draco punched him in the shoulder.

--

Blaise was alarmed by how much he was beginning to enjoy his daily run-ins with Granger. Because they had become just that – daily run-ins. At least once a day, they'd pass each other in the hall or see each other before class, and one of them would pause before exchanging a few words. He no longer attempted to open doors for her, though he still tried to snag the seat next to her (much to her displeasure).

Today he was on his way to go read for class outdoors when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

He whirled around to see a familiar mass of curly brown hair. And the smile. The smile was there.

"Zabini! You didn't even try to stalk me today. I'm feeling rather neglected," Granger said, hands on hips. "Or are you slipping up in your game?"

"Sorry," he responded, chuckling. "Suppose I was a bit distracted. So how are you today? Still off trying to save the world in true Gryffindor style?"

"Why yes, of course. We're just exceptional and good-hearted like that."

"Or perhaps completely delusional."

She frowned, but Blaise could tell that it wasn't a real, angry, I hate you frown. It was just a frown for show.

"So I see that you're the one who sought me out today," he couldn't help but gloat. The familiar Slytherin smirk appeared on his face. "Are you starting to enjoy my presence, Granger?"

She bristled, tightening her arms around her stack of books and shooting him a rather impressive glare. "You'd like that, wouldn't you, Zabini? However, I'll have you know that I just like to have you around as a sort of emotional punching bag." She smiled brightly. "It's rather nice to have someone that I absolutely abhor who is always on hand to verbally abuse. Very cathartic, you should try it."

And with that, she brushed past him, the soles of her shoes clicking against the cold tile as she went on her merry way. To meet with her stupid Gryffindor friends, probably, or maybe to hole herself up in the library again. Blaise had the irrational urge to ask her if he could join her, but he knew that'd only flare up her exasperation with him again.

So he called out, sarcastically, idiotically, "Hey Granger! Do you want to grab a butterbeer with me at Hogsmeade next weekend?"

She laughed without turning around. "Not a chance, you prat."

--

"You like the little Greengrass."

"Shut up."

"You _fancy _her."

"Oh, shut it."

Blaise leaned back against his bed, almost overcome with smugness. "You're not even denying it!" he crowed, watching with satisfaction as Draco buried his face into his pillow and groaned.

"Keep it down, would you? There are people here who _know_ her."

"Oh don't be so worried. There's no one in the entire dormitory right now. Everyone's off eating, remember? You're the one who wanted to get the house elves to bring us meat pies so you could vent about a certain lovely someone."

"Yes, and if you would just shut up, I could successfully vent and get this over with," Draco sniffed, trying to regain his pride. "But as you seem so set on mocking me, I think I might not tell you anything at all."

Blaise tried not to grin. Oh, this was really too good. He had never seen Draco smitten by any girl before – in fact, he had never seen anyone, especially not a shy thirteen-year-old girl, disturb Draco's cool façade.

"Well, go on then. Tell me what you were planning to say."

Draco straightened his posture, looked shiftily at the wall behind Blaise's head and said, "Don't say anything yet – let me finish saying all that I have to say."

Blaise rolled his eyes but nodded. Good Merlin, Draco was going into another one of his dramatic speeches.

"Yes, I think that Astoria Greengrass is rather… errr, attractive. And also, rather sweet. And she comes from a very good family, don't you think? But none of that is suggesting that I fancy her or anything, because I don't." Draco cast a glare in Blaise's direction as Blaise let out a disbelieving snort. "I suppose you could say that I am _interested_ in her, but don't mistake that for me fancying her or anything. I was just, uh… I wanted to ask her to the next Hogsmeade weekend. And I was wondering if you could tell me how to do that."

Blaise looked at him blankly for a moment before bursting into laughter.

"This is not funny!" Draco exclaimed angrily. "This is serious!"

"You just _ask_ the girl," Blaise explained. "It's not that hard."

"But how, and when?!"

Blaise sighed and shook his head. Sometimes, Draco could be quite the handful.

"Okay," he said. "Let's talk you through this step by step."

And that's exactly what he did. That's exactly what best friends were supposed to do, after all. Even when they were Slytherins.

**Click review; tell me what you think and MAYBE there will be an update this weekend!! **


	5. Chapter 4

**hello my dears... this is a new little chappie for you darlings. it's early, so you can jump up and down with gleeee :) i'm very excited by it, so please read and enjoy. **

Chapter 4

"I really have no idea what he's trying to do," Hermione stated as she and Ginny made their way to Hogsmeade together.

Ginny had her eye on a new robe, and though she couldn't afford it, she had begged Hermione to come along with her.

"Oh, just to window shop," she had pleaded breathily. "Tell me you'll be a good friend Hermione and go giggle over girly things with me."

To tell the truth, Hermione didn't quite like the girly things that much, and a bunch of sparkly fabrics held little to no fascination for her. But she realized that this was the opportunity to bring up Zabini's bizarre behavior. She could never bring it up to the boys; it would only infuriate them. And besides, she had the vague, irrational sense that this was a problem to talk about with your girlfriends, a problem that Ginny would understand.

"Zabini?" Ginny wrinkled her nose. "I mean, he really just started to seek you out for no reason? I wouldn't have expected that from any Slytherin, that slimy lot."

Hermione sighed as she took an armful of robes into the fitting room. Ginny had insisted that they were to try on robes together for fun, and so here she was, buttoning up a heavy wool winter dress robe in emerald green.

"How about you?" she asked through the partition that separated them. "Do you have any creepy stalkers tailing you through the hallways between class?"

Ginny snorted. "Oh you know me. I'm not to be trailed – I am the trailer. Still traipsing about after the illustrious Mr. Potter like a sad little house elf."

"Oh, you've gotten much better at it, though. I've hardly noticed your pining this year."

"Really?" Ginny's voice sounded significantly brighter. "Thanks! I've been trying to cut back on the unwavering adoration this year, you know. It was getting rather tiresome."

Hermione laughed and pulled back the curtain to step out in her bare feet. She looked at her reflection in the mirror – well, that didn't look _too _bad, she thought. Ginny stepped out of her dressing room in an outrageously red sleeveless robe and pursed her lips as she looked at Hermione.

"Wow! You look great." A devious glimmer found its way into her eyes. "Why, maybe our sneaky Slytherin friend _fancies_ you."

"Don't be an idiot," Hermione murmured, though a blush found its way into her cheeks. That was absurd, of course. Zabini didn't _fancy _her; evil conniving Slytherins didn't fancy muggleborn witches. They hated them. They jeered at them. They made their lives miserable. And besides, she decided. Even if he did fancy her (which was very, very unlikely), she wouldn't fancy _him_ back. Not with that insufferable sneer and those perfect, perfect dark eyes. No, she would not at all.

To distract herself, she turned to Ginny. "Goodness, Ginny. You look like quite the firecracker in that robe. It's almost scandalous."

Ginny smiled at her brilliantly. "Thanks! If I had my way, I'd wear daring, outrageous robes on a daily basis."

"Just to attract the attention of a certain boy wonder?"

Ginny sniffed, twirling in front of the mirror and watching the gauzy red fabric of the skirt fall around her. "Hardly. What do you take me for, some sort of scarlet woman?"

--

Somewhere across the village, Blaise and Draco were spying on Astoria Greengrass as she made her first Hogsmeade visit with a stammering, dark haired boy who was decidedly _not_ Draco Malfoy.

"This is pathetic," Blaise hissed as he poked his head out from behind a tree.

Draco ignored him. "I'm going to kill Douglas! Just tear him apart. Who does he think he _is_, the little snot-faced prat…"

Blaise sighed. "Let's not take this out on him. Just because _you_ didn't have the courage to ask her out yourself…"

Draco clenched his fists together, his pale features drawn into a look of intense discomfort and pain. "I was _going to_, but he beat me to it."

"Pathetic," whispered Blaise, shaking his head. "Bloody pathetic."

--

"Say," said Ginny as they meandered through the streets of Hogsmeade, stopping to buy squares of fudge. "Isn't that your dark and brooding Slytherin over there?"

"Where?"

"Behind the tree, with his whiny little ferret friend."

Hermione looked over to where Ginny was pointing, and indeed – two heads were in fact peeking out from behind a tree trunk. There was Draco's impeccably styled white blond hair, and yes, there was Blaise. Dark-haired, mysterious Blaise. If he weren't such a bloody prat, Hermione might have to admit that she found him occasionally attractive.

"You should say hi," Ginny whispered excitedly. "Come on… he's always following you about. I bet if you said hi to him it'd make his day."

This was of course, a ridiculous idea. Absolutely ridiculous. Gryffindors like Hermione didn't just go up to nasty, strange, stalker Slytherin boys to say hello. It just wasn't appropriate.

It was strange then, that Hermione found herself walking over towards the tree while Ginny lingered in the background, nodding encouragingly. "I'll catch you later," she whispered loudly, waving frantically. "I'm going to go see if I can catch up to Luna and Neville or something."

And for some reason, Hermione nodded and waved goodbye to her.

This was ridiculous. Abso-bloody-lutely ridiculous.

She stumbled over a root and finally wound up behind the tree. Blaise and Draco were too wound up in whatever they were doing (spying, perhaps?) to even notice her. She tapped Blaise on the shoulder.

"Zabini," she said coolly, inclining her head.

He whirled around with a slight yelp. "Grang… Hermione!" he cried out in surprise. Draco didn't even turn around. He was intent on watching something else. "What are you doing here?"

She shrugged, biting back a grin. It was in these moments that she realized why she hadn't already hexed Blaise Zabini to the depths of Hades – he was rather amusing with his sparkling eyes and tousled dark hair. Not attractive, mind you. Just… amusing.

"I'm just wandering through Hogsmeade with Ginny Weasley, taking in the sights, shopping, you know." She glanced over at Draco, who still hadn't turned around. "What's with him?"

"Oy, Draco." Blaise prodded his friend on the back. Draco hissed and turned around. "Say hello to Granger, will you?"

Draco spun around with his mouth half-open, clearly about to shout something rude and nasty at Blaise for poking him in the back. However, when he saw Hermione standing there, he simply stood open-mouthed for several seconds. A look of confusion obscured his features.

Blaise coughed uncomfortably.

And then, a sudden look of realization dawned on Draco's face. "Oh!" he said, a rather frightening grin spreading across his features. Hermione backed away nervously. "Oh! Granger! Well, isn't it _nice_ to see you here."

Hermione's brow wrinkled in confusion. He really had to be joking – Draco Malfoy, saying that it was nice to see her? And using her surname instead of the derogatory term, "Mudblood"? Had she suddenly been transported into some alternate universe in which Slytherins were actually good people, or something?

Before her head could explode with all this new information, Blaise pushed Draco lightly on the shoulder and shot him a meaningful look.

"Look," he said. "Your prey is leaving. Maybe you want to trail behind her, make sure she doesn't get into any trouble with the young bloke she's with, eh?"

That was all it took to get Draco to perk up and scuffle down the hill towards the trail that Astoria and Douglas were ambling down. Their hands were almost touching as the walked side by side, and the autumn wind swirled leaves past their heads. To anyone else, this would probably be a darling and romantic scene. To Draco Malfoy, it was disgusting.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Does Malfoy have some sort of problem?"

Blaise laughed, and Hermione was surprised to find that it wasn't malicious or sarcastic at all – just a normal chuckle. He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. "Something like that," he said. "But trust me, it's self-inflicted."

"I want to hear about it," Hermione blurted out before she blushed, realizing that she was practically asking her _enemy_ for something. Though, she thought, shuffling her feet – she wasn't quite sure _what_ Zabini was. He had turned into a sort-of-enemy, sort-of-pest that she didn't mind having around terribly. "What _is _the secret behind Draco Malfoy?"

And, well, if anything, she'd at least get some juicy gossip about Malfoy out of him. After all, Malfoy really _was_ her enemy, and she'd love to have a bit of blackmail.

She smirked to herself. And they said that only Slytherins thought that way.

"Well," Blaise responded slowly, a grin curving at his lips. "Tell you what, Granger? I'll tell you Draco's secret it you let me buy you a butterbeer right now."

She groaned and rolled her eyes. "Ugh! Are we back to the stalking again?"

Blaise seemed unfazed as he stood there with his arms crossed over his chest. He moved one shoulder in an elegant and careless shrug. "Those are my terms. Take them or leave them."

And then, Hermione said something she never thought she'd say.

"Fine, Zabini. Let's go get ourselves a butterbeer or two."

**yay please review and i'll give you a treat (as in, another chapter), by... hmm, how about, monday? **


	6. Chapter 5

**This is the new chapter! Ahh, be kind, read and review!  
**

**Chapter 5**

This was absolutely insane. Just absolutely insane.

If you had told Blaise Zabini a month ago that he would be sitting outside the Hog's Head Inn with Hermione Granger, each nursing a hot mug of butterbeer, he would've told you to check yourself into St. Mungo's. But this was actually the reality of it all – he, Blaise Zabini, was sitting outside on a bench with Hermione Granger, glancing at each other over their steaming drinks.

He almost wanted to laugh.

They had gone outside and found a bench around the back, of course, because Granger hadn't wanted anyone to see her. Strange, Blaise almost felt affronted – after all, _he_ was the pureblood. Shouldn't he be the one who was ashamed? But he nodded and followed her anyway, because after all, he had a goal to achieve. He just had to keep reminding himself of that so he wouldn't get off track. Yes, it would be bad to get off track.

"So Granger," he said cheekily, flashing her his most charming smile. Hermione wrinkled her nose in return. "Tell me a bit about yourself – I'm just dying to know more about a fascinatingly brilliant witch like yourself."

She snorted and shook her head, frizzy hair bouncing about her face. "You must be kidding," she mumbled, taking a sip of her butterbeer. "You know what I want."

He raised an eyebrow and lowered his voice seductively as he scooted in closer to her. "Oh _Granger_," he breathed suggestively. "I had no idea."

As expected, Granger shrieked in realization and slapped at his chest with her hand, scooting to the farthest edge of the bench as possible. "No, you prat!" she screeched, her cheeks coloring. Zabini noted that even her ears turned a bit pink – well, that was certainly interesting. "Not _you_… I want the dirt on Malfoy."

And of course, they came back to this. Blaise shook his head wryly as Hermione slowly moved back towards the center of the bench, eyeing him cautiously. When she was about a foot away from him, she stopped, clearly not willing to move any closer.

That was fine.

He'd make her fall in love with him yet.

And then he'd _destroy _her.

Somehow, the idea didn't bring him as much pleasure as he thought it would.

Pushing that rather disturbing revelation down, he took another sip of his buttebeer and responded to her question with ease. "Well," he said, leaning forward so that his elbows rested on his knees. "It seems that our dear Draco is… in love."

Hermione looked skeptical.

"No, really!"

Hermione started laughing hysterically. She hiccupped on a gulp of her butterbeer and Blaise had to slap her on the back several times until she coughed.

"You are kidding," she managed to sputter out as Blaise continued to pat her uncomfortably on the back. He was very aware of the fact that he had scooted closer to her (in order to save her from possible choking) and now practically had his arm around her. Thankfully, she still seemed oblivious to this. "You are joking. There's no way."

"Actually," Blaise corrected her gently. "I am _not_ joking. Draco just so happens to be madly in love with Astoria Greengrass. At this moment, he is probably following her and her date around Hogsmeade, playing the jealous admirer." He paused for a moment, wondering if he had said too much. But then again. Draco had gotten him into this mess in the first place, so eh. He could live. "You're not going to tell your friends all about this, are you?"

Hermione hesitated for a moment before shaking her head slowly, much to Blaise's surprise. He had expected her to laugh in his face and tell him that she was going to send the story to the latest edition of Witch Weekly. But instead, she looked as though she was seriously going to honor a Slytherin's secret. Huh. Interesting. So this is what they meant when they talked about noble, idiotic Gryffindors. They couldn't even properly blackmail people.

"Why?" he blurted out.

Hermione frowned, her eyes flashing as she turned towards him, and Blaise couldn't help but draw in a deep breath. She had no idea how close she was – just inches from his face. "Well, because love is a _sacred_ thing," she explained, ignorant to Blaise's discomfort. His hand still rested on her back. "And if there's the slightest chance that Draco has something of a heart in him, I'd rather nurture it than squash it."

"That's awfully noble." He smiled briefly. "You're one of those… hopeless romantic types then, eh?"

Hermione ducked her head, blushed and wiggled out from underneath Blaise's arm. "Something like that," she mumbled awkwardly, inching away from him. Blaise let his arm fall down to his side.

The underside of his arm seemed strangely cold.

Hermione took one last swig of her butterbeer and rose hurriedly. "I have to go," she said in a rushed, apologetic tone. She looked a little flustered as she stood off, brushing off her robe and tucking her hair behind her ear. "Thanks for the butterbeer, Zabini," she said earnestly. "But I really must go."

And with that, Hermione Granger drew her cloak around her shoulders and disappeared down roads of Hogsmeade without a single look backwards.

--

"So how was your day?"

Blaise and Draco lay in their respective beds, still clad in their clothes from the day. Draco hadn't even bothered to loosen his tie, and from his profile, Blaise could tell that he wasn't happy.

"Bloody awful," the blond muttered, confirming Blaise's worst suspicions. Ugh, and here they went again – in for another one of Draco's self-pitying tirades. "I think she's going with the bloke, Blaise!"

Blaise rolled his eyes and sighed. "Really now, Draco? What makes you think that?"

"Well, I followed them through Hogsmeade, and then when they parted, she hugged him around the neck, Blaise. That means something."

"I hardly think a mere hug is significant," Blaise responded in a bored tone. He placed his hands behind his neck and stared at a water stain on the ceiling. "I mean, really. That's hardly risqué behavior. I bet if you asked her for a hug _right now_," Blaise rolled over onto his elbow so he could face Draco and lowered his voice mockingly, "she _might_ just give you one."

Draco scowled. "I couldn't possibly ask her for a hug."

"Why not? Because you'd stammer and trip over your own words?"

Draco humphed. Really, sometimes it was just too easy.

Immediately, Draco switched the topic, turning over to smirk at Blaise in response. "So, what was going on with Granger today, eh? I notice that you're making headway."

Blaise sighed and shook his head. "Something like that," he muttered. "But she got away in the end."

And it was the truth – though Blaise had tried his hardest, the girl seemed determined not to fall under his charms. He frowned, his expression brooding. What more could he do to attract her to him? It was so difficult, and it seemed as though every time he got close enough, she drew away.

Ignorant to Blaise's musings, Draco shrugged carelessly. "No matter," he said. "You'll get to her soon enough."

Blaise grunted in response.

"But in the meantime," Draco said, turning back to face his friend with a beseeching expression. "What would you recommend I do about this whole Astoria business? I really need your help."

--

Hermione stared at herself in the mirror. Normal brown eyes, unruly curly hair. She turned to the side and tugged at her tie, biting her lip all the while.

Normally, Hermione didn't give in to these kind of silly girly vanities, but she just wanted to know – what was it that Blaise Zabini saw in her? She wasn't stupid enough to think that he actually liked her, but sometimes she had the feeling that he at least found her _attractive_.

_A ridiculous notion_, she berated herself as she smoothed down her hair and tucked in her shirt. After all, she was just a plain-looking Muggle girl, certainly not the type of girl a purebred Slytherin would pursue.

He was just trying to have some fun, she determined, setting her jaw in a defiant manner. That must be it.

He was trying to mess with her, to make her believe that he cared, and as soon as he did, he would expose her to the student body as a fool, an absolute fool.

_Well, I'll show him_, Hermione thought viciously, tugging at her tie. _He'll never know what hit him_.

**Okay, friends. Thanks so much for reading this. Review, review review please and you will receive a chapter on Thursday... if not, it's NEVER coming. Muahahahahaa (hehe).  
**


	7. Chapter 6

**Oh darlings, oh darling readers... I am so sorry that I took so long. however, this chapter should be plenty satisfying. Read and enjoy! **

**Chapter 6**

There are certain girls who are _that_ type of girl – the simpering, the eyelash-fluttering, the pursed lips and tinkling giggles kind of girl.

Astoria Greengrass was most decidedly _not_ that kind of girl.

She knew that kind of girl, of course – the Pansy Parkinsons and Lavender Browns of the world. She saw them every year at debutante balls, dressed in creamy whites and frilly laces, fawning over their uncomfortable dates. But her mother, Evelyn Greengrass, had not raised her daughters that way.

"Tut, tut, girls," she'd say as they sat at the kitchen table together, sipping hot milk and munching on cookies before bed. This was always special girls' time; their father was not allowed into these meetings where they all sat in matching pastel silk robes and swung their bare feet underneath the tables. "You don't want to ever let a boy get the best of you. Don't ever let him think that he owns you – you own yourself, and you have every right to. You are beautiful, intelligent, strong girls."

And she's reach across the table and pat them fondly on the head.

So when the boy in her class, Douglas, asked her if she'd come with him to Hogsmeade that weekend, she said yes very politely. They had an alright time, after all, and he was a nice enough boy. But when he suddenly came up behind her after Potions class and demanded to know why she was speaking to other boys, she exploded.

"What do you mean?" she hissed. "He's my _friend_."

Douglas frowned and crossed his hands across his chest. "Well, I don't think it's quite proper for you to be seen talking to other boys at the same time you're accompanying me on Hogsmeade trips," he said snottily, thrusting his nose into the air.

"Oh, you're incorrigible," Astoria said before sniffing imperiously at him and stomping the other way down the hall. "And, in case you were wondering," she cast over her perfectly straight shoulder. "I _never_ want to see you again."

Astoria turned the corner and continued to storm down the corridor, fuming to herself. How _dare_ that idiot act as though he owned her! The nerve of it all! She was not looking where she was going, and ran herself into a rather solid barrier. A rather solid _warm_ barrier.

"Oh!" she said in surprise, looking up to find herself nose to nose with the infamous Draco Malfoy.

Oh. It was _the _Draco Malfoy, standing there looking as cold as ever. Actually, he looked rather ruffled and disoriented. He had a look of abject confusion on his face as he looked down at Astoria, as though he didn't quite know how to deal with her.

"Oh!" he said, unwittingly echoing her previous statement. "It's you."

"Yes," Astoria said slowly, watching the horror slide across his features. It was always like this, somehow – no matter how much she wanted to speak to the cold, fascinating older boy, he always seemed unreachable for some reason. He was always trying to get away from her. She didn't know why, but she did want to find out. "Draco, I'm having a rather rough day. Would you mind walking me back to the dormitory?"

He looked startled, but strangely, not displeased. "Oh," he said, "Is there anyone I should kill for you?"

Astoria chuckled in surprise. So he could make her laugh as well! Well then, this was a side of Draco Malfoy she hadn't reckoned on seeing. "Come with me," she said in a warmer tone. "And I'll tell you all about it."

--

It had been three days since their Hogsmeade encounter, and Blaise Zabini hadn't spoken to Hermione Granger since.

It was driving him _mad_. Here he had this brilliant plan to seduce the girl and make her realize that she wasn't nearly as smart and clever as she thought she was – and she was messing it all up! Of course his frustration had nothing to do with the fact that he missed their witty banter, or the way she would chew on her lower lip and squint her eyes at him when she was particularly annoyed.

Oh no, of course not.

He was just upset because she was ruining the master plan.

Blaise slammed his fist down on the table in the Slytherin common room and scoffed. This was so typical of a Gryffindor.

Lost in his own thoughts, he didn't notice the portrait swing open until he heard the voices of the two people coming through.

"And so, I suppose he just _assumed_ that I belonged to him or something, based on nothing but a silly Hogsmeade trip." Astoria Greengrass's prim, offended voice reached his ears, and he smiled faintly as his thoughts wandered to Draco. Poor, smitten Draco who would probably give anything to be talking to the girl right now.

And then –

"What a little twit." Blaise startled, whipping his head around at the familiar voice. _No_. Draco Malfoy, making progress with the little Greengrass? It was too absurd to be true. Yet there they were, two white blonde heads bobbing their way into the common room. "I'll make sure that he never bothers you again."

Astoria laughed gently, shaking her head as her ringlets splayed across her shoulders, catching the light in what Blaise had to admit was a very pretty way. She flashed her gaze up to Draco's eyes, and Blaise smirked as he watched Draco's jaw tighten. "I think I can take care of myself, Draco, but thank you for the offer."

Blaise turned around and sunk into his chair. This was unbearable. Even Draco, the lost cause, was making progress. And he, Blaise Zabini, good-looking and charming as hell? He couldn't even _find_ the girl he was supposed to be charming.

He stood up and strode towards the portrait hole, not even bothering to grab his cloak. Draco didn't even look at him as he swept by – he was far too busy staring at Astoria – and Astoria herself only gave him a perplexed little smile before he had exited the common room.

Damn it all. He had to find her.

--

Ginny sat on the edge of Hermione's bed, brushing her long red hair as she checked her reflection in a mirror. Her knees were primly crossed, her skirt perfectly pressed. An after-class appearance check, since Harry had asked her to come out to the Quidditch field tonight and practice with him.

"Just one on one?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

Ginny rolled her eyes as she pulled her hair back with an elastic band, snapping her ponytail back in place carefully. "Yes, we've already gone over this," she groaned. "And yes, I _am_ nervous. Now, can we get to the real question at hand here? What are _you_ doing?"

"Studying," Hermione answered tersely, gesturing towards the pile of books and scrolls in front of her.

"You like to study in the library," Ginny said pointedly, crossing her arms over her chest. "You think it's noisy and distracting here. Why did you switch?"

There was a painfully obvious silence.

"Are you trying to _hide_ from him now?" Ginny finally exclaimed, throwing up her hands. Hermione pointedly avoided eye contact. "Oh _honestly_. This is so childish."

"It is not!" Hermione shot back, hugging her knees to her chest. This was just so unfair. No one understood the nuisance that was Blaise Zabini. Everywhere she turned, he was there, waiting for her. For the past three days, she had dodged him at every turn, escaping from classes as soon as the clock announced the end of the period. She had taken to scarfing down meals before escaping back to Gryffindor tower. Basically, she lived in fear.

Fear of one stupid, slimy Slytherin.

"Oh my god!" Lavender Brown suddenly appeared in the dormitory, breathless with her eyes sparkling in a way that could mean only one thing – fresh gossip. "Zabini – that Slytherin! He's outside the common room, demanding that you come out, Hermione!"

…One stupid, slimy Slytherin who was apparently determined to make her life _miserable. _

"Oh Merlin," she let out under her breath as Ginny sat smiling smugly at her with that look that said, 'I told you this wouldn't work.' She rose unsteadily to her feet. What was she supposed to do? She didn't want some ridiculous rumor about her and that _idiot_ to spread, though it probably was already too late, judging from the look on Lavender's face.

Ugh.

Well, it was time to do some damage control.

She stomped out of the dormitory, wishing she didn't hear what Lavender said as she left.

"It's just like Romeo and Juliet!" Lavender squealed, clapping her hands together. "Ahhh I love it."

Down the stairs and past the startled third-years playing chess in the common room who were unaccustomed to the extent of Hermione's rage, she went until she came to the portrait hole. From outside, she could hear Blaise's rising voice.

"Oy! If there are any Gryffindor girls in there, could you please tell Hermione Granger that I need to speak to her! It's a matter of grave importance!"

"Oh, please settle down, young man," the Fat Lady responded.

Hermione rolled her eyes, steeling herself for the certain idiocy that was Blaise Zabini. Why, when she went out there, she was going to scream such obscenities at him! The only thing she regretted was destroying the innocence of the young Gryffindors unlucky enough to be in the common room during her impending tirade.

Ah well, they'd have to learn the ugliness of life someday.

She stepped forward and the portrait hole swung open, revealing a disheveled Blaise Zabini standing there in mid-yell. He looked up, startled and Hermione marveled at how unkempt he looked. For once, his shirt was untucked and rolled up at the sleeves; his hair was not as perfectly styled as it usually was.

She took a step outside, and then another step closer to him, coming to stand within inches of his chest.

And just as she tilted up her chin defiantly and opened her mouth to let loose her fury, Blaise Zabini did something very strange.

He looked down at her, in that inscrutable way of hers, opened his mouth, hesitated…

… and then he leaned down and brought his mouth to hers.

**You know you want to review so you can nag me for a quicker update! Come on now. Click the button! **


	8. Chapter 7

**Sorry for the long wait, darlings! It's been a very busy summer; I've been swamped with summer school and work and haven't gotten the least bit of time to do anything but make money, study and sleep. However, I decided that I'd made you guys wait for an inordinately long time, and so here is the next chapter. It's shorter than usual -- think of it as a teaser chapter. I think I'll have something up by next week, hopefully! Thank you for being so patient. And sorrrysorrysorry. **

**Chapter 7**

Hermione Granger was aware of two very disturbing things –

First, that Blaise Zabini was _definitely_ out of his mind – and kissing her.

And secondly, it wasn't altogether unpleasant.

As soon as this thought crossed her mind, she brought together all her will and managed to pull herself away from his warm lips, bringing her hands up to his chest and shoving him backwards.

"What," she spat out as she stumbled backward, trying not to think too much about how good he looked when he was in a state of disarray like that (bad thoughts, Hermione… terrible thoughts. Concentrate on the fact that he's a terrible Slytherin), "Do you think you're _doing_?"

He brought a hand up to his hair and ruffled it even more, making Hermione bite down on her lower lip. This was bad, all bad. With a look that didn't seem at all remorseful, he shrugged his shoulders. "I was going to ask you why you were avoiding me, but then you just looked so _damn_ kissable, and so…"

He trailed off, shrugging again.

A Ravenclaw walking past stopped, stared at them wide-eyed and then scuttled past with a shocked "eep."

Hermione's face flamed up with embarrassment. "Do we really have to have this conversation here?" she hissed, glaring daggers at Blaise. "Can we please move it somewhere more private?"

"Okay," he said. "Let's go this way." He gestured down the hallway.

For once, Blaise didn't seem quite so sure of himself, nor did he appear to be joking. His eyebrows were furrowed and he looked rather worried and confused. But Hermione didn't catch any of this.

No, she was too busy asking herself why in the world she was following Blaise Zabini down an abandoned corridor, looking for an explanation to a kiss that should have never happened in a sane and rational world.

--

"You're wearing a _skirt_ to Quidditch practice?" the familiarly floppy-haired Harry Potter raised his eyebrows at her, and Ginny Weasley promptly felt as though her cheeks were on fire from embarrassment.

"Well," she mumbled, thankful for the relative darkness of the field. "I came directly from class to meet you here, so I didn't have a choice."

That, of course, was a lie. A lie that she hoped he wouldn't catch her in.

Harry merely smiled, shrugged his shoulders and leaned over to pat her on the shoulder. Ginny caught herself before she could shudder at his touch. This was _not_ okay. The feelings that she harbored for him were supposed to be strictly platonic. Besides… he didn't feel the same way. He never had.

"Come on now, Gin," he said, and she felt something in her stomach flip. "Let's go practice."

Harry held out his hand, and Ginny found herself taking it without any hesitation.

--

Astoria Greengrass found herself in a rather strange predicament. First of all, she had always thought that Draco Malfoy was the kind of preening, Pureblood idiot who snubbed everyone younger than him and didn't listen to girls at all – he'd only pick them based on their physical beauty. And secondly, she thought that he was probably a terrible bore.

But Draco seemed rather intent on proving her wrong.

"So, favorite class?" They were still sitting across from each other in front of the Common Room fire, biting on licorice that Draco had found in his trunk as he peppered her with questions.

"Transfiguration, I think," she said, and he nodded.

"That's a good one. Umm, I like Potions, but I'm afraid it might be because Snape gives me a lot of slack." He smiled ruefully and Astoria brought a hand up to her mouth to smother a giggle.

Good Merlin, what was she _becoming_?

"Well it's a good thing you're honest about your terrible brownnosing ways, I suppose," she said with a playful twinkle in her eye. "Now I can just go on thinking _terrible_ things about you."

Draco smiled, a real genuine smile and not the smirk she saw on him so often. "You know, Greengrass, I think I'm going to like getting to know you."

And Astoria smiled back at him, she found herself feeling rather and inexplicably giddy.

--

"I like you," Blaise was telling Hermione as they reached a particularly darkened part of the corridor. He wasn't really sure how this part of the plan went, but he was improvising. I mean, this was the way to get to Granger, wasn't it? Wasn't this the way into tricking her into falling for him? He pushed aside the lurch that his stomach gave when he thought of the fact that he was deceiving her, or that she was going to be publicly humiliated when he revealed it all… No, best not to think of that now. Best to focus on the task at hand. "I'm sorry, alright? I kissed you because I fancy you, and there's not much I can do to control that."

Okay… so that was maybe overdoing it. Maybe just a bit. But Blaise bit on his lip and crossed his fingers as he watched for Hermione's reaction.

It was unreadable, as always. That was the damned problem with her sometimes; it was so hard to tell what she was thinking. She would purse her lip and stare at him in that inscrutable way, and he'd just squirm uncomfortably on the inside. That was the look she was giving him at the moment. That look.

"Hermione," he said, his voice softly wheedling. That was how you did it, he thought. You talked to them like you talked to a dog or small children. That was how you got the girls to swoon. "Hermione, can you just try to believe me?"

She shook her head, slowly and turned around.

"I can't," she said, but there was something different in her eyes. They shone in a way he'd never seen before, but before he could question it, she had turned on her heels and disappeared down the hall.

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